Rancho Navarro Chapter Eleven: The Governor's Palace
"But I don't unnerstan', Mano," Buck groused as he and Mano sat drinking coffee at two chairs in the back of the main salón of the Hotel Nacional one day later. From their vantage point, they could see both the front desk and entrance, but the shadows in their remote corner of the room concealed them.
"What don't you understand, Buck?"
"How come we'z stayin' here waitin' and waitin'. Whut're we waitin' for, exactly?"
"Buck, we are waiting for this man, Arreola, to leave the hotel so that we can follow him. We will then discover with whom he is dealing or from whom he is taking his orders, entiendes?"
"Huh?" Buck frowned.
Mano sighed and said no more. Sometimes his gran amigo was a little slow on the uptake, but once he had the idea fixed Buck was like a terrier with a bone. He would never let go. Just the sort of friend I need, Mano thought, to cover my back and stand at my side. He was glad for Buck's solid presence, but sometimes…. Mano started again reading the newspaper.
Buck frowned as a tall thin man with a long mustache came in the front door of the hotel. Peering at the newcomer, Buck nudged Mano, who, absorbed in the newspaper, flashed an irritated look until he turned his eyes where Buck was looking. Ah, one of the men who had carried out the robbery. Good. Things were starting to happen.
They had done enough waiting but their time had not been squandered.
The afternoon before they had grabbed a hansom cab which conveyed them to the slaughterhouse on the edge of town where they arrived just in time to rescue Charly's team. "We oughta at least give it a go, try to save 'em," Buck had said. "If we're too late, well, at least we give it a shot." The butcher had raised an eyebrow, but the weight of the pesos in his palm that Mano supplied proved sufficient to buy his silence. A man who worked for the butcher was paid to take the horses by a circuitous route to the stables of the Hotel Nacional, where provision would be made to house them in secret. While the man was seeing to this, Buck and Mano returned in the cab that had brought them and sought out Señor Zuniga at the stables to beg yet another favor.
"Ahora, I am low on funds, amigo," Mano had said, necessitating a visit to the bank to make a withdrawal. I am glad Tío now pays me an income and that it is deposited here, he thought, for this adventure is becoming costly. I imagine Buck will repay some of this when he has the chance, since it is for Charly that we are doing these things. And more cash will likely be needed before we can retrieve the jewels and consign Arreola to prison. Well, it is only money. No importa. Mano's tastes were refined but not extravagant. He had never worried about money...he had never had to...and he assumed these current circumstances would be resolved without too much loss. Somehow he would come out all right. He always did, as people do who are raised around money, even if they do not have a great deal of it themselves.
Now, the mustachioed Mexican walked toward the downstairs room occupied by Arreola. Mano knew this because the manager Garza had left open the guest registry where Mano could see and he had sneaked a peek the day before and had discovered Arreola's suite to be down the hall from the bathhouse. Hmmm, the meeting Buck and he had overheard the previous day must have occurred in some sort of storeroom off the service entrance. Now this hombre is going right to Arreola's room. Familiarity. Buck and Mano watched him but did not leave their seats. When Mano heard voices approaching a few minutes later, he raised his newspaper to cover his face. Buck watched Arreola and the oily stranger slip out the hotel door and turn left. As soon as the heavy glass and wood doors closed behind the men, Buck prodded Mano in the arm and said, "Our pigeons is flyin' the coop. Let's go."
"Most interesting," Mano said as he and Buck tailed the two, keeping well back, staying concealed amongst the many people scurrying here and there. "They are headed for the governor's palace." As the men approached a row of offices at the side of the governor's mansion, the other pedestrians thinned out, and Buck and Mano hung further back, watching.
"Buck, they are going into the farthest office down there. If we could find out whose office it is, that might tell us a few things. It is a pity we cannot get near enough to listen at the door, but I think we would be noticed standing on the street."
"Now, Mano, maybe if we could look like tourists?"
"Buck, you might look like a tourist, but I….." and he gestured to his face.
"Oh yeah, I guess that won't work."
"I have an idea, amigo. Come let's go back to the hotel. Vamonos. Andale." Grabbing Buck, Mano swiveled them both around to retrace their steps at a brisk walk. They bounded up the marble steps of the Hotel Nacional and Mano made for the front desk where he nodded to the clerk, asked for pen and paper, and requested the presence of the manager. Within a minute, Garza had emerged from his office and stood at Mano's right elbow as the caballero finished writing. The manager raised his eyebrows in expectation as Mano turned to him, handing him a folded note. "Señor Garza I need your most trusted young man to take this note to the governor. Only the governor himself is to open it, do you understand?"
The manager bowed and took the paper from Mano, concealing it in his inside jacket pocket and walking behind the front desk where Buck watched him ring a bell.
"Can he be trusted?"
"I think so, Buck. I believe so. We shall see."
"Whut do you think the governor's gonna do when he gets your note?"
"Well, he will not share the contents with anyone, primero. Segundo, he will get his trusted right-hand man to do some digging and then we shall see. Still we must wait. Wait and see."
"Waitin' agin? Cain't we find a poker game or somep'n?"
"No, Buck. We cannot visit gambling halls or saloons or bordellos," Mano replied, thinking, as if I need a bordello. "We are respectable businessmen in town on business. Besides, the truth is, I need to keep a, how do you say, a low profile."
"Why?"
"When Carmen and I were here for our honeymoon, I...interfered with a robbery and I may have made some people angry. Tío advised me to steer clear of Hermosillo till the dust settles."
"Why didn't you tell me this, S'nor Montoya, before we come here? Guess that's how you got that knock on the head, ain't it? To think I figgered Missy Carmen give it to you."
"Ah ha ha. Very funny. Anyway, Buck, we must wait."
"I s'pose so." Buck slumped into the chair in their room and propped his chin on his hand. Waiting had never been his strong suit. As it turned out they didn't have to wait long. Early that afternoon, Mano received an elegant parchment letter addressed to him and bearing the seal of the governor. Breaking open the missive, he read and nodded, then turned to Buck. He was careful not to smile when he told Buck what they must do.
"Buck, stop fidgeting, hombre!" Mano said between clenched teeth, as his friend yanked at his collar for the tenth time that evening while they waited in the anteroom of the governor's grand palace. Surges of adrenaline had sent them walking-rather than taking a cab-to the mansion from the hotel. Men of action both, they were ready for something, but they did not know what.
"I feel like a prize turkey in this getup. When are we gonna git somewhere?" Buck asked, his new ruffled black shirt adorned with a string tie. His black leather vest and boots were the only familiar items he wore.
"Shh, here comes Calderón, the governor's assistant. Just nod and be polite, por favor?" Mano hissed, straightening his own tie and adjusting the short black jacket borrowed from the hotel staff. A glance at a wall mirror reassured him. I look pretty good, Mano thought, all things considered. As his father had been, he was vain about his appearance and he knew it.
"Ah, Señor Montoya, the governor is so pleased that you and your, er, friend could join us this evening."
"We are delighted, Señor Calderón, delighted. May I present Buck Cannon of Arizona?" Mano gave a half bow and glared at Buck, who copied his friend a little late, but at least bowed. Calderón acknowledged Buck with a short bow of his own.
"I shall have a servant bring you something to drink," Calderón said, looking Mano straight in the eye. "Please wait here." He twirled around and walked off with mincing, precise steps.
"Gracias," Mano said as Calderón skipped off. In the far corner of the grand entrance hall, Mano spotted Arreola. He was wearing evening dress and did not seem out of place at all. How could he have wrangled an invitation? Mano wondered. Next to Arreola stood another man, very well dressed, a jeweled stickpin anchoring his cravat. At least Mano supposed it was a jewel. He was too far away to be sure. Just then a servant glided past with a tray of drinks. He cupped Mano's elbow, leaned in and whispered something in his ear as Mano picked up two glasses filled with wine. Once the servant had left, Mano passed a drink to Buck and guided him away on the pretext of showing him a fine painting in an alcove near the grand staircase.
Once they were in front of the painting, Calderón materialized in front of them. Buck saw to his surprise that the man had emerged from a door that, unless opened, blended with the mahogany paneled walls next to the alcove so as to be invisible. Mano encouraged his friend inside and the door was closed.
"Governor, los Señores Montoya y Cannon," Calderón announced.
Buck and Mano entered a large room with a massive desk in the middle, behind which Governor Ignacio Pesqueira sat. He rose to greet them and gestured for them to sit down as Calderón pushed leather chairs into place for them. Mano executed a short bow which Buck imitated a second later and they both sat, surveying the room as they did. Musta been a secret entrance we come through, Buck decided. Main door's prob'ly down the hall. Mebbe it's a secret exit in case the governor needs out quick, he concluded, glancing back to see that the door had disappeared into a wall of bookshelves. "Manolito, I am glad you are here," Pesqueira began. "I appreciated your note. My assistant, Calderón, and I have been questioning my staff all afternoon and I believe we are on the track of someone, but I need your help. Well, the help of you and your friend."
Mano looked at him without speaking; Buck's eyes narrowed but he, too, remained silent as the governor continued. "For almost two weeks now, I have been trying to find out who could have been behind, first of all, the daring raid after the ball from which you rescued my guests. And secondly, I have wondered who could have gained the confidence of someone in my office so that invitations could be arranged, including one for that man Valadez."
"Do you have any idea, sir?" Mano asked, curious.
"Yes. That man you saw, Señor Arreola, he was talking to the man I believe to be behind things. There have been too many coincidences, and I, for one, do not believe in coincidences." Buck shook his head in agreement as the governor continued. "The man's name is Chávez. He is a senior man in the trade legation and often asks for invitations for guests. Up until now, we have always trusted his judgment about those friends."
"Do you think he is trying to use Arreola to get rid of the jewels he arranged to have stolen from our friend?"
"Yes, or to get a trusted jeweler to transform them so that nobody would recognize them. I suspect this is what was going to happen after the ball, but you foiled their plans. If Chávez knew that you were here…"
"Yes, my uncle has suggested that I stay away. Circumstances prevented this. As my note mentioned, these jewels were stolen from a friend of Señor Cannon and myself."
"You should know that a man from your uncle Domingo was the first to approach me many days ago with the suggestion that something might be amiss. Your note has only confirmed this, because, I suppose, you know this man Arreola."
"I have had dealings with him, sir...in the past."
"When you were much younger, I take it?" The governor's eyes twinkled. "You know what good friends I was with your father. We both worried much about you, Manolito. You were a wild one."
Buck grinned but kept quiet. Mano shrugged. "I cannot deny that, sir. But no longer."
"Yes, and I think the wife you have chosen will make it most unnecessary for you to run wild again. Besides, one grows up, does one not? La señora is most beautiful."
"Sí," Mano smiled and shifted in his chair. "What can we do to help, sir?"
"I am going to create a small 'scene,' shall we say, that may cause our friends to play into our hands and into those of the policía, who are standing by." Buck and Mano both leaned forward as the governor continued speaking, explaining the details of his scheme. A smile broke out on Buck's face and Mano rolled his tongue inside his cheek, pensive at first...and then quite pleased. His eyes gleamed.
"Que buena idea!" Mano exclaimed at last. "That should work perfectly."
"Yeah, long as we all play our parts right," Buck added. "Let's give it a go, sir."
"Sí," Mano smiled, rising from his chair and, after a small bow, requesting leave: "Permiso, Governor?" A nod from Pesqueira dismissed them, but as Mano turned to go and Buck edged out of his chair, the governor's voice stopped them.
"Gentlemen, you must know that this is not without risk."
"Yessir, we do know that," Buck answered while Mano shook his head in agreement.
The governor paused, then, in a hesitant voice, added, "Manolito, your father often spoke of you." Mano tilted his head to one side.
"Oh?"
"Yes," the governor continued. "He enjoyed telling stories about you. One of his favorites concerned the time you and he apprehended El Caudillo in Nogales and put an end to his little revolution. And he always laughed when he described how you talked him out of the bull Montoya." Mano grinned at that memory. "A great joke, your father called it," the governor reflected with a sad smile. "The last time I saw him, he told me all about how you recovered the stallion Diablo from the gringo banditos. He was proud of you, Manolito...in his own way."
"Gracias. I did not give him much reason to be, señor."
"Nonsense. You are the son of your father, Manolo." I am that, Mano thought, bowing again to Governor Pesqueira and turning to leave. Calderón also bowed to the two men, then opened the concealed door, glancing left and right to be sure the coast was clear. He motioned for Buck and Mano to move back to the alcove near the staircase. They retained the glasses which they had carried into the governor's office and continued to sip their wine, acting as though they had been standing admiring the painting all this time. The conversation with the governor had not lasted ten minutes, but it seemed much longer to the two whose nerves were now on highest alert. Buck felt himself repressing the urge to pace, instead channeling all his energy into concentrated attention, waiting for a sign. Mano's eyes were cold and observant, his mouth a thin line.
A few minutes later, the governor appeared at the top of the staircase, with a shorter man beside him. Must have a set o' back stairs he took, Buck mused as the official and his guest swept down the grand stairway and stopped three steps from the bottom. Buck and Mano hung back while the dozen or so guests milling about the room below turned and drew closer as the governor spoke. "My friends, how good it is to see you all," he declared. "Now, I ask you all to raise your glasses to toast this evening's special guest, Señor Isak de Santiago, the renowned jeweler from Mexico City." Santiago, a corpulent, florid man, bowed, producing from his vest pocket a white handkerchief with which he mopped his forehead.
A polite round of applause echoed throughout the room after all had raised their glasses in a toast and taken a sip of wine. The governor and his guest descended, circulating among the crowd and making their way toward Chávez. Mano and Buck observed the scene from across the room, careful that their presence in the alcove should be concealed as much as possible by the undulating crowd. That's some talk they're havin', Buck thought. Shore hope that fella Chávez takes the guv'nor's bait.
He had no need to worry. "Mira." said Mano, nudging Buck in the ribs and indicating Chávez with a jerk of his chin. "Los pollitos están llorando!" he sang in a low voice, amused. Buck frowned. He had never understood that stupid song about chickens, but he saw Arreola now deep in conversation with Chávez and Santiago after the governor had moved to shake the hand of a man in a general's uniform.
"Time to git goin'?"
"Sí. Now for our part. Vamonos."
VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well.
